


A Moment In Time, A Glimpse Of The Past

by SoftlySoftlyCatcheeMonkeyy



Series: Pitch Perfect [1]
Category: Pitch Perfect (2012)
Genre: F/F, Gen, Photography
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-27
Updated: 2013-01-27
Packaged: 2017-11-27 01:18:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/656434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoftlySoftlyCatcheeMonkeyy/pseuds/SoftlySoftlyCatcheeMonkeyy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Beca doesn't understand Chloe's love for photography, can Chloe open up to Beca and explain the heartbreaking origin behind it and possibly change her outlook on life in the process?</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Moment In Time, A Glimpse Of The Past

**Author's Note:**

> I felt the need to write and this is what came to me, it's loosely personal but I thought it was a good story that hopefully hasn't been done yet.

Rays of sunlight filtered through the shutters of the roadside diner as Beca basked in the warmth of Atlanta in July but all the while appreciated the invention of air conditioning. Chloe sat opposite the brunette, pretending to fiddle with the lens of her camera with the intention of snapping her girlfriend when she least expects it. 

The redhead raised the camera to her face so her eye was in line with the viewfinder but she was too slow, the brunette was onto her and quickhid buried her face in her hands. 

“Oh come on, spoilsport! Let me take a picture of you” Chloe said as she lowered the camera again. 

”No. I don't see why you want a picture of me so badly when we see each other  **every single day!** ” the brunette protested. 

Chloe tilted her head to the side, pouted and gave Beca the wounded puppy look. “Why not? You're beautiful, I just want a picture of all that beauty incase we're ever separated for an extended period of time” she softly whined. 

“Why would we ever be separated?” The brunette replied. 

“I don't know, work commitments, illness, family issues. Something like that.”

“Well I highly doubt that'll ever happen but even if it did, don't you already have enough photos of me to work with?” Beca asked rhetorically, moving round to Chloe's side of the booth so she could wrap her arms around her girlfriend and place a soft kiss on her cheek. 

“You can never have enough photos.” the redhead whispered as her lips met the other girl's. 

She always said that. If there was one thing Beca could quote Chloe on, it was that you could never have enough photos. It was also the one thing Beca understood least about her girlfriend; she couldn't fathom Chloe's indepth love for photography. Most people would see something they like, take a photo, and move on. Chloe, on the other hand, was very particular; she was particular about the lighting, and the distance, and the angle at which she took the photo. She was also  _very_ particular about the camera she used; she had a box full of old or unused cameras at home and Beca reckoned she'd racked up a total of at least 30 just in the 4 years that they'd been together. 

Beca didn't get it, but she put it down to photography being to Chloe what music was to herself. “Why do you take so many photos?” Beca eventually asked as the thoughts in her head became too much. 

”Why do you create so many mixes?” Chloe responded with a smile. 

“Because music is my passion and my livelihood. It's creative and original, it's an art form, an outlet of emotion.”  

“Exactly.” Was the redheads rebuttal. 

“But-” Beca paused, she always struggled to wrap her head around Chloe's belief that photography could be compared to music. “You're not creating anything, you're just capturing what's already there..”

“You could say the same about your mixes, the beats and the lyrics are already there but you're creating something new by capturing them in a different light. You enjoy taking different songs and mixing them together so that they make something new and different. I enjoy the idea that you can capture a moment in time; a moment that has come and gone before the lenses have even clicked, and it doesn't matter if the subject of your image is prepared or not because what's important is that you're catching all of its natural beauty, because everything _is_ beautiful.”

This was exactly why Beca didn't question Chloe often on her hobby, it made her head hurt trying to think of reasonable responses to her girlfriends words. What made it worse was that the redhead never raised her voice or showed any sign of annoyance at the belittling of her passion. It almost annoyed Beca that Chloe could stay so calm and unfazed. 

“I guess I just don't get it. I mean, I've tried but.. I just don't see what all the fuss is about.” the brunette thought it best, as usual, to leave it at that instead of carrying the discussion any further. 

“That's okay I've never expected you to because I've never really told you how the hobby originated.”

Now this intrigued Beca; Chloe had a point, she never talked about what got her into photography because any time Beca poached her on the subject she would always lose her nerve and change the subject. The more that Beca thought about it, the more she realised how odd this was, why would you be embarrassed or too scared to admit the reasoning behind one of your biggest influences in life?

The brunette looked down at her girlfriend who was now resting her head on Beca's shoulder, she raised her eyebrows as if to indicate she was waiting for the redhead to continue. The women sat in silence for a few moments before Chloe let out a sigh and prepared herself for what she was about to admit. 

“I don't like talking about it because every time I do I end up as an emotional wreck, but, I feel like I should explain something to you. This is long overdue and I don't know why I ever kept it from you but-” Chloe swallowed hard. “Remember how I told you that the reason I never talked about my mum was because she walked out on me and my dad when I was a kid?”

Beca nodded as she remembered the countless time Chloe had avoided conservations about her parents, her mother in particular. 

“Well that was a lie; my mother had Alzheimer's. I know it sounds horrible but the truth is so much more painful that I guess I found it easier to just tell people she left of her own accord rather than admit what actually happened.”

Beca had always sympathised with Chloe - she didn't get on tremendously with her own mother but at least she was around - so it was more than a little shocking to discover the real reason the redhead couldn't bring herself to talk about her absent mother. The brunette squeezed her girlfriend tight and placed a kiss on the top of her head for reassurance. 

“She was diagnosed when I was 12. The doctors said she was a rare case because despite early on-set dementia not being uncommon, it was rare for people to develop the condition at such a young age. They also said that inherently the rate of decline was far more aggressive in younger suffers than your typical dementia patient.” The redhead could feel tears forming in the corners of her eyes but she was determined to tell Beca everything. 

“They explained the different stages of dementia and the changes we were likely to see, but for the first 3 years it wasn't that bad. It was clear her memory was disintegrating but for the most part she coped perfectly well. Then when I was 15 she took a turn for the worse. In the space of about 3 months I watched everything I ever loved about my mum just disappear completely. It was literally like I was watching mother vanish before my very eyes.” Chloe cleared her throat in an attempt to get rid of the lump in the back of her throat; the tears now streaming down her cheeks. 

“It wasn't until around my 16th birthday that we realised how much of a danger she was to herself. My dad had a board meeting one day and I had an exam at the same time so we were hesitant to leave mum home alone, but we figured it would only be for an hour or two and then I'd be home to take care of her. I arrived home that day to find my mum in the kitchen, about to light a cigarette, when I smelt the gas from the cooker. If I'd have turned up even 10 seconds later than when I did she would have killed herself.” 

At this point it had all become too much for Chloe as she buried her face in Beca's neck and rubbed frantically at her eyes. The brunette couldn't bear seeing her girlfriend in so much pain, she'd never seen Chloe so vulnerable. She wanted nothing more than to take away all the hurt and pain but the best she could do was rest her hand on the back of the other woman's head and pull her in closer - if that were possible. 

Chloe pulled herself together enough to continue the story. 

“My dad decided it was time we got some professional help, there was only so much we could do for her but she had reached the point where she needed round the clock care in a safe environment, so we looked into various local care homes for her. There's something so very wrong with putting your parent in a care home when they haven't even reached 50, it defies nature, but it's what we had to do for all our sakes. 

We visited her whenever we could but it didn't take long for our old lives to fall back into place and for her to forget us completely; the less frequently we visited her, the harder it became for her to remember our names or even our faces. It killed me, knowing that she could live like this for years, not remembering a trace of her former life. It killed me even more knowing death was looming but not being able to prevent it.”

Chloe took Beca's remaining hand and held it tighter than ever before, they're fingers interlocking like chains. 

“That's what hurt the most, being able to see what the future holds but not being able to do anything about it. I hate using clichés but it really was like watching a car crash. She lived in the care home for about 18 months and then one day, when I was 17, we got a phonecall saying she'd passed away in the night. I felt exactly how I imagined I would, and yet, at the same time I didn't. I suppose I'm greatful most of all that she died relatively peacefully, even if it was sudden.

My dad was heartbroken, lost, a shadow of the man he used to be, but this was a process in the works. I could see clearly how he'd been deteriorating in his own way for the last 2 years anyway. He decided we would get some professional help of his own and started seeing a shrink to help get over his grief; it was because of these visits my dad actually started to acknowledge the fact he wasn't the only one in pain. I guess he thought I was coping pretty well with it all because I didn't show my pain externally, but after a few discussions with the shrink he decided it would be healthy for us both to take up a new hobby as a way of releasing our emotions. We were essentially looking for, as you said, an outlet for our grief. 

He chose boxing, and I chose photography. Dad was more interested in releasing his anger, I preferred being outside where it was calm and quiet. I remember finding one of my mum's old cameras, I went for a walk that day and took pictures of the sun setting over the lake; it was then that I decided I'd found my crutch, my own personal form of escapism. It didnt matter what people thought, it helped me get over the biggest loss of my life and for that I am eternally greatful. Photography is my medium.”

The redhead pull away from Beca's chest so that they're eyes could meet, the look of love and pain in the other woman's eyes made her heart melt. Chloe had never seen Beca so speechless and emotional, but she didn't need words, everything she needed to hear from the brunette could be found in the depth of her eyes and the grip of her hand. 

“I know, it's beautifully tragic, right?” Beca let out a soft giggle at Chloe's attempt to lighten the mood.

“I take photos of everything because experience has taught me that life really is short and it feels even shorter when you can't remember the majority of it. I'm scared that in 20 years time that'll be me not remembering my address, or your name, or worse yet not remembering to turn the gas off and going to light a cigarette. I'm scared I'll end up like my mother and I'll leave behind a family who spent the best part of a decade putting their lives on hold to take care of me. I don't want that to happen so as a precaution I take photos of everything, I make scrapbooks so I have somewhere to store all my memories incase one day I stop storing them inside my brain. I know you think they're stupid, but when I'm old and grey and senile, those scrapbooks might just prolong my life - or at least soften the blow as I let go of reality.”

Beca wrapped both arms around the redhead's waist and pulled her in close for a hug, nestling her head in her shoulder and whispering in her ear. “I don't think they're stupid, I think they're beautiful. Will you teach me, will you teach me to see the beauty and simplicity in the world? I want to see life through your eyes.”

With that, the redhead pulled away from the hug and took her girlfriend by the hand, leading her out to the parking lot. 

“Look into the distance over there” she said as she pointed to the scenery of open space ahead of them. “What do you see?”

“Nothing, it's just a road with some trees and dirt either side of it.” Beca replied. 

“Look again” Chloe said as she formed a viewfinder with her hands and held them in front of Beca's eye. “Just focus, now what what do you see?”

“Amazing..” The barely audible word gently slipped out of Beca's mouth. Chloe was right, if you just focused and looked a little deeper, everything had an element of beauty to it. 

The two women spent a few moments taking in their surroundings; it was so calm and peaceful, and the way the sun penetrated the surface of their skin and gleamed across the hood of their car was quite literally breathtaking. It was a moment in time, just one moment, that not even a photograph could capture honestly. 

Both women lay in bed that night with a thousand different thoughts occupying their minds. Neither of them could quite believe the honesty and sincerity of their conversation at the diner but at the same time they were both greatful for Chloe's confession because, for some reason, it had brought them closer together than they'd ever been. 

“Thank you for today, I can only imagine how much courage it must have taken you to tell me all that about your mother. I realise now why you were always so hesitant about that topic but I can't begin to tell you how much it means to me that you opened up to me like that.” Beca whispered against the back of Chloe's neck as she curved herself around the other woman's body. 

“I feel safe when I'm with you Beca, I just wish I'd have found the courage to tell you sooner. Promise me something, promise me you'll never leave me? Even if I'm old and grey and I can't remember much, promise me you won't leave me in a home to die alone.” Chloe was practically choking on her words. 

“I promise I'll never leave you. Even if your memory goes and you struggle to even dress yourself in the morning, I promise to never stop caring for you, I promise I'll always be there with you even if you don't know it. I'm not going anywhere, Chloe, because we still have thousands of new memories to make, and scrapbooks to compile them in. I love you Chloe Beale, and I hope you'll never forget that.”

The brunette placed a kiss in the corner of the redhead's mouth and traced patterns gently in the palm of Chloe's hand before interlocking their fingers again as they fell into an oasis of serenity for the night. Tomorrow would be a beautiful day, how could it not after recent revelations?


End file.
